Interminable Lorry, the Crustacean: The Resurgence
by FreakyDeakyKhaleesi.Returns
Summary: Secret Agent Lorry Quaid can handle much. How much?
1. Chapter 1

Introduction

I woke up, to my surprise, in my bed. The night before I was slurping ejaculatory shots from a three breasted woman's spinal crevice. The salty aftertaste was present upon my tongue, my nipples stiffened as I recovered feeling in my groin. I'll need to shower after this recall. I FEEL VIOLATED. I sit up and take in my surroundings, which seem so unfamiliar to me. The room is completely wrecked, cum, piss, blood, and chunks of my hair litter the floor and surrounding furniture. It had been such a night.

"BOOYAH!", said Douglas, or as he preferred to be known, Big D, as he climaxed in MY ASS. I wriggled away. But just as I was squirming across the bed, he collapsed atop me in post-orgasmic bliss. Consuming me in his size, enveloping me underneath him. The breath was knocked out of me, and I was flattened onto the bed (like a pancake). Big D had fallen asleep, it seemed. Years of training had prepared me for situations just like this. I steeled myself, and began chewing at the mattress underneath me. At first the material was hard and unrelenting, but once it gave way there was only cotton to prevent my escape from this squishy prison. My nipples stood on end in anticipation.

I was running out of air, and energy, I had to think fast, I was highly dehydrated from the nights constant shenanigans, I contemplated for a moment my options, and just when I was losing hope, my flesh muffled prayers were answered, and I felt a warm moisture pooling on my lower back. I didn't have to think twice, I arched my back as best I could and directed the stream of liquid towards my shoulders and let it dribble down my neck and onto the mattress I had been knawing. My attention was now focused on the task at hand. I suckled away with grim determination at the pungent urine from the mattress innards betwixt my lips. I felt my thirst had been quenched and the mission could continue. Finally I had chewed away enough mattress to reveal the frame of the bed, and fresh air filtered in to my flubbery tomb. Goose flesh was evident on my titties by the sudden cold.

It was several hours before I was finally free of that man. Not in the legal sense, of course, we were still married, or so he thought, and I was now thoroughly showered and on my way to the city centre to speak with my commanding officer to discuss my work environment. I approached his desk, bare bottom periodically visible as I strode confidently towards Mr. Clark-Sam, he looks up from his work, a decidedly horny glint in his eye. I resign myself, and easily slip off my billowing sarong…


	2. Chapter 2

Lorry the Crustacean – ch 2

"Lorry, not again. I'm married, I have children."

I knew this would not stop him, I could see it in his tenting pants. He wanted me (who wouldn't?)

"Oh lets not play these silly games. I must needs speak to you about the situation concerning -"

"Don't speak of that here, that is confidential, no one but you, I, and the queen need know of this"

I gave a furtive glance towards the glass ceiling, where I had a scenic view of the queens meaty thighs balanced precariously atop a stool resembling Johnny Depp's face. She waved. I came.

I became aware of Clark-Sams continuous nattering. Couldn't he see I was under the gaze of Amber's third eye? I turned back to him disdainfully. He had no idea what I went through to get from where I was to where I am now, only Amber knew my struggle, mien kampft. Only she had felt the sweaty, groping sausage-like hands of that onion scented beast. We shared in our pain. We writhed in it. Bathing in swamp water, and luxuriating in the hollow tree we once called home. I was struck back from my reverie by the sharp sting of Clark Sam's spidery hand against my now flushed cheek. I heard ms. Heard inhale in mock horror all of the suddenly.

"Hold yourself together Lorry."

My hands flew to my breastses protectively, I knew how this would end.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Lorry the Malaysian

I took to the streets in anger ablaze. I was outraged, so much so that I could feel my anus beginning to prolapse, again.

"I could offer you the world."

I turned around, it was… Neddard Stark.

"I thought I'd seen the last of you in Vietnam!" Exclaimed I.

He grabbed me by my remaining tufts of head hair and wrestled me into a headlock from which I could not escape (nor did I desire too). His stubbly jaw tickled the nape of my neck and I felt a familiar wet sensation invade my senses. I was fearfully aroused, I was not used to being treated this gently. My nipples were like raisins fighting to break free.

"How long has it been since your plump lobes have felt the warm greeting of a mans tongue?" He whickered.

I groaned.

I slithered tiredly westward and onto a passing uber. I clung to the slightly ajar tinted window. My sarong billowing violently in the wind, held only to my bosom by a thread of fabric. I knew my modesty was at risk, and my mouth frothed at the prospect of the sikhesque driver realizing his advantage. All he need do is wind down the window and I would be at his mercy. Saliva dribbled from my loosely puckered lips and flecked onto the speeding vehicle. That's when I felt it. My sarong slid free from betwixt my heaving yet perky breasts. I knew what I must do. My fingers stroked inward towards the driver's turban. It occurred to me that it would make an agreeable method with which to rectify my nudity. I stealthily unravelled it from atop his EBONY head, and peeled myself sensually from the situation. I could tell the driver was becoming subconsciously aware of my vulnerable presence within the vehicle, and looked at the conduit for my escape. The Jeb Bush Memorial Bridge. This was my chance, mein kampf was at an end. I leapt ceremoniously from my temporary transport and into the crisp Moscow haze. The water hit me like an orgasm and I instantly regressed to a memory I had thought long repressed.

It was October in the swamp. The blowflies were thicc this season. Amber and I had been tasked with cleaning the outhouse. The squatting pit called me into it's fragrant depths.

"The Long Dark of Moria" announced Amber, in shock and excitement.

In my fascination I leant dangerously over the sticky precipice, and did not notice relentless perspiration pooling in my palms.

"Hey, Amber, there's something down there." I exclaimed, touching her vascular forearm.

"REEEEEEEEEE" Squeeled Amber as she withdrew in shock from my unexpectedly moist grip, and slid helplessly into the abyss.

Without Amber I had nothing, was nothing, I barely wasted a second of thought and threw myself after my fellow columbine. Our fates were entwined. We fell for several seconds before making jarring contact with the temporarily unyielding cesspit. Momentarily paralysed, I began to sink, catatonic, deep into the eager, squelchy muck.

I felt strong hands grasping my bare upper arms. Amber? Could it be?

My eyes shot open enthusiastically, only to regard the stoic, masculine features of Bob McClane.

"Who are you, ser?" I asked the sales representative.

He merely wickered.

I leant groggily away from his grip, and rolled onto the wet pebbles.

"Is this how you repay your old basketry tutor?

I hauled myself to my reddened knees, and reached for his belt. He leaped back in horror.

"No! I'm saving myself for Miley Cyrus!"

Relieved, I rolled across the needle littered beach and into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Lorry's Big Occasion

I had been rolling for what seemed like hours when I began to tire. I knew what I must do. My body was weak and needed sustenance. I rose shakily to my feet and took in my surroundings. Central Manhattan. My eyes met an enticing puddle of murky rainwater. I squatted deliberately and, leaning in, pressed my plump lips against the pooled effluent.

My tongue made hesitant contact, tasting tobacco, soil, Fantasic's Spicy Thai 2 Minute Noodles, and the familiar flavour of urine. I lapped greedily, savouring every precious drop, and before I knew it the puddle was gone. My source – dried out. I needed MORE. Frantically, I searched for nourishment.

"Got any change?"

I turned around. A homeless person, bedraggled, unkempt, but well fed. A scattering of stubble littered a strong jaw, as my gaze lowered I noticed large heaving teats and a round, protruding belly. She was with child. This was my unlikely salvation. I sprung at her, pinning her to cobblestone. She let out a low grunt of pain. I ripped her dirty plaid shirt open, revealing a hairy couplet of engorged, splayed udders.

For not the first time, I pressed my lips to an unconventional provision. Latching on, I rhythmically drew upon her left nipple while fondling the right mammary in preparation. In my determination, I sunk into a trance-like state; sucking, fondling, licking, biting, sucking, fondling, licking, biting, sucking, fondling, licking, biting. I wickered impatiently, I'd never encountered such reluctance – she yielded no milk. I popped my lips free and critically examined the person beneath me… This was no woman. This was a man. I recoiled in horror, fleeing the alley. I ran naked along the frequented streets of Berlin, with no destination in mind. I came to a busy square. Lights blinded me as I searched for familiar faces. Then I saw it: Nando's Chicken. I was saved.

All I need do is find a patron, seduce and manoeuvre him to a private location, and seize his nutritious ejaculate.

POV: Shrek

Kourtney brandished a pair of clippers, as she pruned me big toe.

"Remember the corners, ya wee lass!"

She wickered, and focused on the yellowed edges of me unruly toenails. Her inexperience showed when she dug the nail point into my skin.

"NO! You dense, irritating, miniature beast of burden!"

She withdrew into a corner. I flung the door open and strode outside. The swamp had not been properly tended to in many moons. Reluctantly, I admitted that Lorry and Amber were better concubines than this new little donkey. There was nothing for it, no replacement. I had to get them back.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – Lorry Attempts Persuasion

Satiated, I made my way to the bus. Orange, with blue detailing. I approved. A suitable form of transport for one such as myself. The doors swing open, revealing a portly, scowling figure hunched over a large wheel. Stepping inside, I strode purposefully towards a singular empty seat behind the driver. Releasing a guttural scream of rage, he extended his arm into my path. Before I had time to process this development, his fist collided with my lower abdomen, I felt a hot pressure rising up my throat. I knew what was about to transpire in this very vehicle, and was helpless to prevent it. Thick projectile cum covered all matter within the confines of the bus, a hapless quadriplegic bore the brunt of the sticky, yet nutritious torrent. The deluge continued for several agonizing minutes before the supply ran dry. Drained, I took my seat.

"Muhh"

I turned and observed the distressed retards vocal seizing. I leant forward, aligning myself with the driver's ear.

"Take me home." I whispered breathily.

He wickered, and put the bus into gear.

POV: Homeless rapeé

"Please maam, we know this must be hard for you, but can you describe your assailant?" Insinua'ed the fuckin skinny cunt.

"I aint never did nuffin to no niggas cuz"

"It's alright… sir? w-we're here to help!"

"Ya dun fuck ma sistah cunt! I'll get ma mob down 'ere fuckin' neck ya!"

That's when I saw her. That ferral bush pig gettin' off the 88 to Wagga.

"Oi, that's the shiela that dun sucked me nip!"

Seein' her again made me tits ache.

"What is this about? T-this is your doing isn't it! I tell you orificer, he's lying! Please, I need to talk to Amber! You have no right! I'm with the government, I know The Queen! REEEEEee"

"You're going away for a looong time sicko."

"Yea take that ya white dog! Fuckin' bite me tits get rekt cunt." I lit a durry.

"Calm down please sir, your safe now, but we still need your statement in order to put this degenerate behind bars."

POV: Lorry

I was manhandled into the station.

"What am I accused of? What right have you to hold me here against mine will?"

"Maam, I'm gonna have to ask you to calm down."

He handcuffed me to an irrigation pipe in the crowded reception. I knew what I must do.

I began grinding my hips sensuously against the cold steel. I could hear the steady chatter dim as all eyes turned to my erotic display.

"Maam, m-maam, I'm gonna have to ask to discontinue that behaviour."

I knew from his tenting pants that he did not mean his words. I did the Russian splits in spite of his authoritaé.

"Don't look, sweetheart" a mother gasped, shielding her babe in unwarranted offense.

"I demand to call my lawyer" I intoned as I swung upside-down, the pole clenched betwixt my meaty thighs. Officer Snape appeared in the doorway of his office.

"Merlin's beard! Johnson, I thought you had this under control!"

"S-sorry sir, she just wouldn't stop."

"I'll deal with you later." He turned to me.

"Come with me." He uncuffed my hand from the piping. I knew where this was going.

He lead me into his orifice and bade me sit.

"Now, you're in a serius situation here. You're looking at 10-15 years for public indecency and sexual assault charges.

I whickered. I was perturbed by this turn of events.

"Your bail is set at $25, and you'll be detained Skanksbury Penitentiary for the Criminally Whorish until your trial in 2 weeks."

1 week later:

It had been a moons turn since last I felt the sweet pickle of freedom upon my ample breasts. I lay in my bunk, staring at the water damaged ceiling, and drifted into a restless slumber.

I was taken back to the weeks spent entombed in Shrek's cesspit. By the second day we had made our way through the semi viscous discharge and onto an island of ancient, dehydrated shit. Days turned into weeks, and Amber was busying herself in the little brown island we now called home making shit tarts, when Rumpleforskin materialized in our sitting room.

"Looks like you're in a bit of a kerfuffle." He remarked.

"Who in Merlin's name are you?" Amber moaned.

"My name is Rumpeforskin, but you can call me Loo."

Amber snapped.

"What the fuck is this, you know him Lorry? Is something going on?"

I wickered anxiously.

"I could get you out of here – well, one of you, for a price of course." Loo smirked.

Amber's head shot up.

"NAME YOUR PRICE, PAGAN."

Amber's words tore me out of my shock induced stupor.

"Amber you mustn't trust him!"

He turned to me.

"You deemed my terms agreeable, all those long years ago."

I wickered, trying not to delve back into the memory of his influence upon my formative years.

"I'll do anything! I must needs escape this squelchy purgatory." Amber exclaimed desperately.

"Will ye now? Very well. You may go… BUT there must be a sacrifice – your lover: Loretta David Quaid."

I looked to Amber. Surely she would not think to betray me like this, but as our eyes met I saw in her a determination I had not seen since Nantong Mardi Gras. Before I could appreciate the gravity of the situation, Amber grappled me, mounting herself atop my chest, and coiling her large, rough hands around my throat. I thought back to that night in Nantong, her considerably larger hand enveloping mine as we marched past thousands of squinty eyed naysayers. As I lost consciousness, my last sight was Amber's frantic eyes hovering above me.


	6. Chapter 6

I awoke with a jolt, my nipples softened with relief. Sitting up, I looked down at my nubile body – glistening with perspiration and greed…

"Sallah Mallaycum. Slut." A gravelly tone broke the silence.

I turned. It was… Lindsey Ahjibad-Pajeeb Lohan.

"That's my bunk, you western swine." She continued, approaching me like a predatory half-pitched black tent.

"This can't be! I have no quarrel with you!" I pleaded, beginning to panic. Without my sarong I felt naked – clad only in an orange jumpsuit and without even the security of a buttplug.

She paused, tensing, the silence hung heavy in the air (like a pendulous ballsack) and my nipples stood on end awaiting the imminent (no doubt saucy) encounter.

"ALLAH HU AKBARHHHH" She bellowed, leaning into a charge.

I clung to my bunk for dear life, bracing myself. Collision occurred within moments, the force of Lohan's mass barrelling into the flimsy metal bunk frame causing a localized earthquake, shaking me to my core.

"Reeeeeee!" I screamed, barely clinging with both arms to the mattress as I was tossed about violently (like a prawn in stir-fry).

"LOHAN! STOP THAT!" A guard's voice shot through the chaos, but if Lindsey heard it she payed it no heed, continuing to jerk the bedframe with all her righteous might.

TZZZZBBZZT Tasers shot out and contacted with Lohan's sizeable rear, causing her to drop to the floor, seizing like a fish out of water. Relief washed over me, and I dismounted the bed to observe her writhing form, and noticed two pools of wetness collecting underneath her burka-clad body. How I longed to nourish myself with the vital liquids, they were within my grasp, I need only slither forward and set to lapping with thirsty vigour. I decided to bide my time – let the seizure pass, let the guards disperse.

"Alright lunch time ladies come on." Says the guard, turning on his heel.

I stared at the pooled nutrients, and Lohan's still twitching corpse, and couldn't resist. Squatting, I leaned in and, drawing back her headscarf, nibbled tentatively at the soft flesh of her earlobe, while simultaneously collecting handfuls of fluid and dousing myself thoroughly. Growing more confident, I began to unzip my jumpsuit only to be startled when the deceased remains stirred. I withdrew hastily and scampered out the cell door – away from the reanimated corpse of the former child star turned zombie.

The cafeteria was at capacity, teeming with miscreants and lesbians. I got my food (a crepe with tomato sauce and gravy) and turned to find a seat but there were none available. My mind instantly began searching for the likeliest lap and found it in the form of a hulking she-beast called Melina. I strode over purposefully and threw myself upon her inviting thighs and began digging in to the first solid meal I had had in many moons.

I was so involved in devouring the delicious crepe that I hardly noticed when a foreign extremity began snaking its way up my juicy thighs and towards my love cave. I let out a snort of dismay, and a shot of gravy rocketed out my nose and splattered lovingly across the woman seated opposite. I looked on in horror as the woman began licking the substance off her upper lip, cheek, and forehead. The sensation of sheer entrance shook me from my stupor, and I leaped onto the table before me, crouching, legs splayed like a Christmas chicken poised for combat.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Lorry's Evasion

Melina calmly continued to suckle noisily upon a prune flavoured Just Juice box, a glint of malice and paternal abandonment in her eye. Just as I was about to pierce my spork into her firm yet meaty breast, the doors to the cafeteria flew open, revealing the reanimated corpse of Lindsay Pajeeb-Hussein'Mafat Lohan. The zombie scanned the room, whickering in approval when she laid eyes upon my trembling yet titillating form. I knew what I must do. There was only one exit, and it was guarded by the jihadi temptress. All my training was in preparation for circumstances such as this. Grabbing Melina's bucket of fried chicken, I smothered myself in chicken grease, trying not to get too distracted by my own writhing, sensual, slick body. Diving off the lunch table, I landed on my belly with what, I hoped, would be enough forward momentum to slide past the undead heeb. Using my erect nipples to steer around obstacles, I careened towards the figure before me. She stood, spread legged, attempting to prevent my glissade of freedom.

"Stay on target." I said to myself through gritted teeth, compacting into an aerodynamic bullet of woman, speeding through the parted legs of Lindsay, I allowed myself but a furtive glance upward at her ginger minge before continuing out of the cafeteria and through multiple walls, each one shattering faster than the last as my momentum increased. Fresh air hit me like a wall and I found myself coasting across open fields. Freedom entered me violently, inciting a shudder of insecurity. Looking ahead, I noticed the ground sharply disappearing into ocean. I had but seconds to prevent a wet end.

"You can never rely on a black man, but you can always rely on nipple friction in a jam."

I remembered Beyonce's wise words returning to me. I knew what I must do.

I focussed my femininity into my nipples, causing them to stiffen into nubs of steel and scrape against the soil beneath me, I was slowing – but not fast enough. Sparks flew out to either side of me, and the crunch of steely nipple upon bedrock could be heard. Still hurtling towards the cliff, I began to roll, reaching desperately for tufts of grass with my hands until there was nothing to grasp. I threw my arms out searching for purchase urgently, and found it briefly, only to take the crumbling ledge with me. I fell, finding the time to study the faces of George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Joseph Stalin carved into the cliff-face. The water hit me like Chris Brown, and I slipped into my velvety unconscious.

Summer, 14 ½ moons ago: Shrek's Drop Toilet

I found myself consuming the last of the shit-tarts Amber had made. Tears fell down my face, mixing with the compacted faeces. How could Amber do this to me? We were to marry in June. We were to escape this simple swamp life and make a new one for ourselves – as husband and wife.

"Why the tears, my dear?" A tinkling voice met my ears. I looked up, and my eyes met an elderly sorceress.

"What need have you of me, practitioner of the dark arts and crafts?" I replied, suspiciously.

"What need have you of ME? I, young whore, am your fairy godmother."

I was amazed. My own fairy godmother? Things were finally looking up for Loretta David Quaid. I had merely to wish, and I could escape this dungeon of dung.

"I WISH FOR…. A POGO STICK!" I screamed enthusiastically, wiping the tears off my face and grinning widely.

"Uh- your wish is granted." She replied, and materialized a shiny new pogo stick right 'twixt my thighs.

"Thankyou, madame wiccan." And with that, I bounced away – to freedom, to Amber.


End file.
